3A 


':^:.K>i:]j> 


M 

..^ 

-^', 
~"^ 

^>3 

:3 

CHARLES  B.;ALEXAN0ER. 


^"^^^ 


?S^  ::r*a" 


i-    ._;li^ 


^-.:> 


^^^vS^^p*: 


m^mmmm 


Cihvary  of  trhe  t:Keolo0ical  Seminar;? 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

Mrs.    Winthro-j  V/.    Alclrlch 


-t  ^^^AMmm^^.. 


UM, 


f^m> 


',p^nif> 


p^-^i:f^. 


THE 


r^altinj  ^niribU; 


AND     OTHER 


TRi^nS'SLA.TIOlSrS      OK-     G^ERlMAlSr     HYIVtN^S. 


y     BY 


NEW-YORK: 

MDCCCLXI. 


AND    OTHER 


TRj^IN'SLATIOnS'S      OIB^      GlLTllSTJkJSr     HYJMIS^S. 


<5nbliclj  hmhi  htx  l^tisse  S^icpl 


BY    F.    HARTMAXN. 


1  Now  the  crucible  is  breaking ; 
Now  my  faith  its  seal  is  taking ; 

Molten  gold,  unhurt  by  fire, 
Only  thus,  'tis  ever  given, 
Up  to  joys  of  highest  heaven. 

For  God's  children  to  aspire. 

2  Thus  by  griefs  the  Lord  is  moulding 
Mind  and  spirit,  here  unfolding 

His  own  image,  to  endure. 
Now  he  shapes  our  dust,  but  later 
Is  the  inner  man's  creator ; 

Thus  he  works  by  trial  sure. 


(Enbliclj  biicbt  bcr  I^cisse  (Ticgcl. 


3  Sorrows  quell  our  insurrection, 
Bring  our  members  to  subjection, 

Under  Christ's  prevailing  will ; 
While  the  broken  powers  he  raises 
To  the  work  of  holy  praises 

Quietly  and  softly  still. 

4  Sorrows  gather  home  the  senses, 
Lest,  seduced  by  earth's  pretenses. 

They  should  after  idols  stroll. 
Like  an  angel-guard,  repelling 
Evil  from  the  inmost  dwelling. 

Bringing  order  to  the  soul. 

5  Sorrow  now  the  harp  is  stringing 
For  the  everlasting  singing. 

Teaching  us  to  soar  above  ; 
Where  the  blessed  choir,  palm-bearing, 
Harps  are  playing,  crowns  are  wearing, 

Round  the  throne  with  sonojs  of  love. 

G  Sorrow  makes  alert  and  daring  ; 
Sorrow  is  our  clay  preparing 

For  the  cold  rest  of  the  grave  ; 
Sorrow  is  a  herald,  hasting, 
Of  that  springtide  wliose  imwasting 

Health  the  dying  soul  shall  save. 


CubUcIj  kidjt  iicr  I}ctssc  Zu^tl 


7  Sorrow  makes  our  faith  abiding, 
Lowly,  childlike,  and  confidmg  ; 

Sorrow  !  who  can  speak  thy  grace  ? 
Earth  may  name  the  tribulation. 
Heaven  has  nobler  appellation  ; 

Not  thus  honored  all  our  race. 

8  Brethren  these  our  perturbations. 
Step  by  step,  through  many  stations, 

Lead  disciples  to  their  sun. 
Soon,  though  many  a  pang  has  wasted. 
Soon,  though  many  a  death  been  tasted. 

Sorrow's  watch  of  sighs  is  done. 

9  Though  the  healthful  powers  were  willing, 
All  the  Master's  will  fulfilling 

By  obedience  to  be  tried. 
Oh  !  'tis  still  no  less  a  blessing. 
Such  a  Master's  care  possessing, 

In  his  furnace  to  abide. 

10  In  the  depth  of  keenest  anguish. 

More  and  more  the  heart  shall  languish 

After  Jesus'  loving  heart, 
For  one  blessing  only  crying  : 
"  Make  me  like  thee  in  thy  dying. 
Then  thy  endless  hfe  impart." 


Cnblkb  bricbt  ha  Ijciss£  ilicqcl 


1 1  Till  at  length,  with  sighs  all  breaking, 
Through  each  bond  its  passage  taking, 

Lo  !  the  vail  is  rent  in  twain  ! 
Who  remembers  now  earth's  treasure  ? 
What  a  sea  of  godlike  pleasure 

High  in  heaven  swells  amain  ! 

12  Now,  with  Jesus  ever  reigning, 
Where  the  ransomed  home  are  gaining. 

Bathing  in  the  endless  light. 
All  the  heavenly  ones  are  meeting  ! 
Brothers,  sisters — let  us,  greeting. 

Claim  them  ours,  by  kindred  right. 

13  Jesus!  toward  that  heigrht  of  heaven 
May  a  prospect  clear  be  given, 

Till  the  parting  hour  shall  come. 
Then,  from  pangs  emerging  brightly, 
May  we  all  be  wafted  lightly 

By  angelic  convoy  home ! 


&   iaujjf  ijoll  ilut  wnb  Mitnbtiv." 


A  Passion  Hymn  by  Paul  Gerhardt. 

1  O  SACKED  head  !  now  wounded, 

With  grief  and  shame  weighed  down, 
Now  scornfully  surrounded 

With  thorns,  thy  only  crown  ; 
O  sacred  Head  !   what  glory, 

What  bliss,  till  now  was  thine  ! 
Yet,  though  despised  and  gory, 

I  joy  to  call  thee  mine. 

2  O  noblest  brow,  and  dearest ! 

In  other  days  the  world 
All  feared,  when  thou  appeared'st. 

What  shame  on  thee  is  hurled  ! 
How  art  thou  pale  with  anguish. 

With  sore  abuse  and  scorn  ; 
How  does  that  visage  languish. 

Which  once  was  bright  as  morn. 

3  The  blushes  late  residing 
Upon  that  holy  cheek. 
The  roses  once  abidins: 
Upon  those  lips  so  meek. 


0  |jaupt  boll  ^§iut  tinb  Satiinbcit." 


Alas  !  they  liave  deiiarted  ; 

Wail  Death  has  rilled  all ! 
For  weak  and  broken-hearted, 

I  see  thy  body  fall. 

4  What  thou,  my  Lord,  hast  sufierecl. 

Was  all  for  sinners'  gain  : 
Mine,  mine  was  the  transgression, 

But  thine  the  deadly  pain. 
Lo  !  here  I  fall,  my  Saviour, 

'Tis  I  deser\'Te  thy  place  ; 
Look  on  me  with  thy  favor. 

Vouchsafe  to  me  thy  grace. 

5  Receive  me,  my  Redeemer, 

My  Shepherd,  make  me  thine  ; 
Of  every  good  the  fountain, 

Tiiou  art  the  spring  of  mine. 
Thy  lips  with  love  distilling, 

And  milk  of  truth  sincere. 
With  heaven's  bliss  are  fillins: 

The  soul  that  trembles  here. 

G  l>eside  thee.  Lord,  I've  taken 
My  place — forbid  me  not ! 
Hence  will  I  ne'er  be  shaken, 

Though  thou  to  death  be  brouglit. 


*'Q  faupl  boll  gllut  «ub  ©lunbcu; 


If  pain's  last  paleness  hold  thee, 

In  agony  opprest, 
Then,  then  will  I  enfold  thee 

Within  this  arm  and  breast ! 

1  The  joy  can  ne'er  be  spoken, 

Above  all  joys  beside, 
When  in  thy  body  broken 

I  thus  with  safety  hide. 
My  Lord  of  life,  desiring 

Thy  glory  now  to  see, 
Beside  the  cross  expiring, 

I'd  breathe  my  soul  to  thee. , 

8  What  language  shall  I  borrow 

To  thank  thee,  dearest  Friend, 
For  this,  thy  dymg  sorrow. 

Thy  pity  without  end  ? 
Oh !  make  me  thine  forever. 

And  should  I  fliinting  be. 
Lord  let  me  never,  never 

Outlive  my  love  to  thee. 

9  And  when  I  am  departing. 

Oh  !  part  not  thou  from  me  ; 
When  mortal  pangs  are  darting, 
Come,  Lord,  and  set  me  free  ; 


10  "(D  fanpt  boll  §lut  unb  52timbfn." 


And  when  my  heart  must  languisli 

Amidst  the  final  tliroe, 
Release- me  from  mine  anguish 

By  thine  own  pain  and  w^o  ! 

10  Be  near  me  when  I  am  dying, 

Oh !  show  thy  cross  to  me  ; 
And  for  my  succor  flying, 

Come,  Lord,  and  set  me  free ! 
These  eyes  new  faith  receiving, 

From  Jesus  shall  not  move. 
For  he  who  dies  believing, 

Dies  safely  through  thy  love. 


*f  ?i''7itl 


Wiu   soil   icij    gixlj   tmgfiutgcii/' 


An  Advent  Hymn  by  Paul  Gerhardt. 

1  Lord,  how  shall  I  be  meeting, 

And  how  shall  I  embrace 
Thee,  earth's  desh'e,  when  greetmg 

My  soul's  adorning  grace  ! 
O  Jesus,  Jesus  holding 

Thyself  the  flame  in  sight, 
Show  how,  thy  beam  beholding, 

I  may,  my  Lord,  delight. 

2  Fresh  palms  thy  Zion  streweth, 

And  branches  ever  green. 
And  psalms  my  voice  reneweth, 

To  raise  my  joy  serene. 
Such  budding  tribute  paying, 

My  heart  shall  hjTnn  thy  praise. 
Thy  holy  name  obeying 

With  chiefest  of  my  lays. 

3  What  hast  thou  left  ungranted. 

To  give  me  glad  relief  ? 
When  soul  and  body  panted 
In  utmost  depth  of  grief, 


12  "^lic  soil  icb  pidi  rmpfanqcit." 


In  hour  of  degradation, 

Tliy  peace  and  ])ity  smiled, 
Then  tliou,  my  soul's  salvation, 

Didst  liajipy  make  tliy  child. 

4  I  lay  in  slavish  mourning, 

Thou  cam'st  to  set  me  free ; 
I  sank  in  shame  and  scorning, 

Thou  cani'st  to  comfort  me. 
Thou  raised'st  me  to  glory. 

Bestowing  highest  good, 
i^ot  frail  and  transitory. 

Like  wealth  on  earth  pursued. 

5  Xaught,  naught  did  send  thee  speeding 

From  mansions  of  the  skies, 
But  love  all  love  exceeding. 

Love  able  to  comprise 
A  world  in  pangs  despairing, 

"Weighed  down  with  thousand  woes 
That  tongue  would  fail  declaring, 

But  love  doth  fast  inclose. 

C  Grave  on  your  heart  this  writing, 
O  band  of  mourners  poor  ! 
With  i)ains  and  sorrows  fighting. 
That  throng  you  more  and  more ; 


Mk  soil  idj  gklj  frnpfirncjcn/'  13 


Dismiss  the  fear  that  sickens, 

For  lo  !  beside  you  see 
Him  Avlio  Your  heart  now  quickens 

And  comforts ;  here  is  he. 

7  ^Yhy  should  you  be  detained 

In  trouble  day  and  night, 
As  though  he  must  be  gained 

By  arm  of  human  might  ? 
He  comes,  he  comes  all  willing. 

All  full  of  grace  and  love, 
Those  woes  and  troubles  stilling, 

Well  known  to  him  above. 

8  Nor  need  ye  tremble  over 

The  guilt  that  gives  distress. 
No  !  Jesus  all  will  cover 

With  grace  and  righteousness : 
He  comes,  he  comes,  procuring 

The  peace  of  sin  forgiven, 
To  all  God's  sons  securing 

Their  part  and  lot  in  heaven. 

9  Why  heed  ye  then  the  crying 

Of  crafty  foemen  nigh  ? 
Your  Lord  shall  send  them  flying 
In  twinkling  of  an  eye. 


14  "SEic  soli  kb  5"^^  tmpfangm.' 


He  comes,  lie  comes,  forerer 
A  Kincr,  and  earth's  fell  band 

Shall  prove  in  the  endeavor 
Too  feeble  to  withstand. 

10  He  comes  to  judge  the  nations, 

Wroth  if  thev  wrathful  prove, 
"With  sweet  illuminations 

To  those  who  seek  and  love. 
Come,  come,  O  Sun  eternal, 

And  all  our  souls  convey 
To  endless  bhss  supernal. 

In  yonder  court  of  day. 


*' &t^  m^,  mtm  ^n"^,  untr  sucbe  ifnub." 


A  Summer  Hymn  by  Paul  Gekhaedt. 


1  Go  forth,  my  heart,  and  seek  for  praise 
On  these  delightsome  summer  days, 

In  what  thy  God  bestows. 
How  rich  the  garden's  beauties  bo, 
How^  lavishly  for  me  and  thee 

It  doth  its  charms  disclose. 

2  The  forest  stands  in  leafy  pride. 
The  earth  is  veiled  on  every  side 

With  garb  of  freshest  green ! 
The  tulip  and  narcissus  here 
More  wondrous  in  their  pomp  appear 

Than  Solomon  was  seen. 

3  The  lark  floats  high  before  the  breeze. 
The  dove  toward  the  forest-trees 

From  covert  speeds  along ; 
The  song-enriched  nightingale. 
In  ecstasy,  fills  hill  and  dale 

And  mount  and  plain  with  song. 


10  "  ^-cfe  niis,  nuiit  |)cr^,  nub  giubc  ^vciib." 


4  The  hen  her  tiny  flock  enfolds ; 

The  stork  his  dwelling  builds  and  holds ; 

The  swallow  feeds  her  brood  ; 
The  lightsome  stag,  the  bounding  roe, 
Skipping  from  upland  refuge  go 

To  depths  of  grassy  food. 

5  Tlie  brawling  brook  adown  the  jitlain 
Lines  its  fliir  maro-in  fresh  acrain 

With  myrtle-shadows  deep. 
The  meadows  green  relieve  the  eye 
And  echo  with  the  gladsome  cry 

Of  shepherds  and  their  sheep. 

(3  The  never-weary  tribe  of  bees, 

Now  here,  now  there  in  blossoming  trees, 

Find  booty  far  and  near ; 
The  sturdy  juices  of  the  vine, 
For  sweetness  and  for  strength  combine. 
The  pilgrim's  toil  to  cheer. 

7  The  wheat  lifts  rank  its  ears  of  gold 
To  fill  with  joy  botli  young  and  old, 

Who  learn  the  name  to  praise 
Of  Ilim  who  doth  incessant  pour 
From  heavenly  love  a  matchless  store 

Upon  our  sinful  race. 


**  #£lj  aus,  mnit  pcr^,  imb  sudje  c^rnib."  17 


8  And  shall  I,  can  I  dumb  remain  ? 
No,  every  power  shall  smg  agam 

To  God,  who  loves  us  best. 
Come,  let  me  sing ;  all  nature  sings, 
And  all  within  me  tribute  brings, 

Streaming  from  out  my  breast. 

9  Methmks,  if  here  thou  art  so  fair, 
And  suiferest  a  love  so  rare 

To  poor  eartVs  sons  be  given, 
What  gladness  shall  hereafter  rise 
In  rich  pavilion  of  the  skies. 

And  golden  tower  of  heaven  ! 

10  What  lofty  pleasure,  glory  bright. 
In  Jesus'  garden  shall  delight ! 

How  shall  the  chorus  ring. 
When  thousand  thousand  seraphim 
With  one  consenting  voice  and  hymn 

Their  Alleluia  sino; ! 

11  Oh  !  were  I  there.     Oh  !  that,  thine  own, 
I  stood,  dear  God,  before  thy  throne. 

Bearing  the  victor's  palm  ! 
There  Avould  I,  like  the  angel-choir, 
Still  sound  thy  worthy  praises  higher. 

With  many  a  glorious  psalm. 


18  **  (§t\i  nviB,  mciit  ger^,  imb  suclje  cfreub." 


12  But  while  I  bear  life's  burdens  still, 
"With  cheerful  mind  and  voice  I  will 

No  longer  hide  thy  grace  : 
My  heart  shall  ever  more  and  more 
Thy  goodness  and  thy  love  adore, 

Here  and  in  every  place. 

13  Ilel^D  now,  and  on  my  spirit  pour 
Thy  heavenly  blessing  evermore, 

That,  like  a  flower,  to  thee 
I  may,  through  summer  of  thy  grace. 
In  my  soul's  garden  all  my  days 

The  holy  fruitage  bear. 

14  Choose  me  to  bloom  in  Paradise, 
And,  till  in  death  I  close  my  eyes, 

Let  soul  and  body  thrive  ; 
Being  to  thee  and  to  thy  praise, 
To  thee  alone,  my  lifelong  days, 

In  earth  and  heaven,  alive. 


''|dj  Iitss  gicb  mtljt,  git  musjt  mciix  |csus 

bltikn/' 


A  Jesus  Hymn  by  W.  C.  Dessler. 

I  LEAVE  thee  not,  thou  art  my  Jesus  ever, 
Though  earth  rebel, 
And  death  and  hell 
Would,  from  its  steadfast  hold,  ray  faith  dissever ; 
Ah !  no.     I  ever  will 
Cling  to  my  Helper  still. 
Hear  what  my  love  is  taught, 
Thou  art  my  Jesus  ever, 

I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not ! 

I  leave  thee  not,  O  Love,  of  love  the  highest, 
Though  doubt  display 
Its  battle-day ; 
I  own  the  power  which  thou  my  Lord  appliest. 
Thou  didst  bear  guilt  and  woe ; 
Shall  I  to  torment  go 
When  into  judgment  brought  ? 
O  Love,  of  love  the  highest, 

I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not. 


20     "Jjclj  lass  Jliclj  ukljt,  gu  mus^t  mciit  |csus  blcibcu." 


3  I  leave  thee  not,  O  tliou  who  sweetly  cheerest, 

AVhose  fresh  supplies 
Cause  strength  to  rise, 
Just  in  the  hour  when  faith's  decay  is  nearest. 
If  sickness  chill  the  soul. 
And  nights  of  languor  roll, 
My  heart  one  hope  hath  caught, 

0  thou  who  sweetly  cheerest, 

I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not. 

4  I  leave  thee  not,  thou  help  iii  tribulation  ; 

By  stroke  on  stroke, 
Though  almost  broke, 

1  hoj^e,  when  all  seems  near  to  desolation. 

Do  what  tliou  wilt  with  me, 
I  still  must  cling  to  thee ; 
Tliy  grace  I  have  besought. 
Thou  help  in  tribulation, 

I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not. 

5  I  leave  thee  not,  shall  I  forsake  salvation  ? 

No,  Jesus,  no ! 
Thou  shalt  not  go  ; 
Mine  still  thou  art,  to  free  from  condemnation. 
After  this  fleeting  night. 
Thy  presence  brings  me  light, 
Whose  ray  my  soul  hath  sought ; 
Shall  I  forsake  salvation? 

I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not. 


lass  Jliclj  nicljt,  gu  nuis)t  mm  fesus  blcibcit."     21 


6  I  leave  thee  not,  thy  word  my  way  shall  brighten. 

"With  thee  I  go 
Through  weal  and  woe, 
Thy  precept  wise  shall  every  burden  lighten. 
My  Lord,  on  thee,  I  hang, 
Nor  heed  the  journey's  pang, 
Though  thorny  be  my  lot. 
Let  but  thy  word  enlighten, 

I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not. 

7  I  leave  thee  not,  even  in  the  lap  of  pleasure. 

For  when  I  stray 
Without  thy  ray. 
My  richest  joy  must  cease  to  be  a  treasure. 
I  shudder  at  the  glee, 
When  no  delight  from  thee 
Has  heartfelt  peace  begot ; 
Even  in  the  lap  of  pleasure, 

I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not. 

8  I  leave  thee  not,  my  God,  my  Lord,  my  Heaven, 
Nor  death  shall  rend 
From  thee,  my  Friend, 
Who  for  my  soul  thyself  to  death  hast  given. 
For  thou  didst  die  for  me, 
And  love  goes  back  to  thee  : 
My  God,  my  Life,  my  Heaven, 
I  leave  thee  not,  I  leave  thee  not. 


%  Chminxn  bonnet. 


From  the  French  of  Des  Barueaux. 


Great  God!  Thy  judgments  endless  right  disclose, 
Grace  for  the  sinner  thou  dost  still  devise ; 

But  I  have  sinned  so  much,  that  goodness  knows 
No  way  to  pardon,  unless  justice  dies. 

Yes,  O  my  God !  sins  that  so  vastly  rise. 

Leave  to  thy  greatness  but  the  choice  of  woes, 

Thy  throne's  high  interest  my  bliss  denies. 

And  mercy's  self  stands  watching  for  my  throes. 

Sate  thy  revenge,  for  this  thy  glory  cries. 
Scorn  thou  the  tears  which  overflow  mine  eyes. 
Launch  lightnings,  'tis  high  time,  I  war  invoke. 

And,  doomed,  I  worship,  sinking  in  the  flood  ; 

Yet  on  what  spot  shall  fall  thy  thunderstroke, 
Not  wholly  covered  with  my  Saviour's  blood  ? 


.A,^-  1 


as^  ,>^'''e^''^Vx»''»'>.f^ ;? 


Vfr  '^.\' 


1'  '    ^'i/-     ^-  !-^ 


Vf-V>., 


•C^Jr^^j^ 


^m 


'■■  ■^"'■^'rr 


'Mi 


J^_       ;«• 

fcp" 

c 

^W?fes            ^ 

^ 

c 

«: 

dc- 

«cic: 


O.^-CJ 


